


Another Perspective

by aamaurot



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: A!WoL, Amaurotine Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Other, amaurotine!wol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aamaurot/pseuds/aamaurot
Summary: Emet-Selch and my WoL have a strange relationship. Especially through their time knowing one another.There are some personal headcanons and theories that I have added to this fic that I've found on twitter.
Kudos: 8





	Another Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> Please note there are 5.3 spoilers!! Please do not read if you have not finished the 5.3 MSQ ❤

Amaurot - one of the most beautiful cities on this star.

Constellations twinkled above the city, dancing gracefully on the stage of the night sky, but that was not this particular Amaurotine was looking at. In contrast, he was looking at something most with the naked eye could not see; but his vision was keen to it. Perhaps not one of the most keenest, but enough that he could be entertained by it.

Different coloured souls danced in the distant realm, and Hades had found solace in watching them dance like so. Peace and quiet, and left alone to lay idly on a patch of grass far from where most Amaurotines strived. But that did not stop him from having guests. In particular, a certain few knew exactly where he rested when he was not going about his Convocation duties.

The red and white half moon mask covered up the majority of his features, and alike all Amaurotines, he wore a grey hooded robe; the hood of which had fallen to release white hair that flowed gracefully beside his head.

And one had already come to visit. Though, it was not one that Hades had expected anytime soon - and especially one that he did not mind at all. In fact, it would be unfair to say that Hades actively disliked this particular Amaurotine; like the peace in watching the Underworld, Hades did not mind speaking with this one.

“I thought you would be here.” The other spoke in their mutual tongue, careful not to stir the Amaurotine resting on the grass. Much alike Hades, this one also wore a red and white mask, but the markings were different. Unique, but not so different.

Hades grumbled, his focus going from the Underworld souls to that of the constellations above him. The first one he saw was the one represented on his Convocation soul stone - Gemini. _How convenient_ , Hades mused to himself.

“Is there a particular reason you are here, Ademus?” Hades responded. Unlike usual, Hades had replied almost instantly. Hades seemed to have a soft spot for this particular Amaurotine, though that did not stop his words being bitter - he did not like to be disturbed once he had focused upon the Underworld. “Are you not supposed to report to the Convocation?”

“I have something for you.” Ademus responded gently, ignoring Hades’ question. 

Before long, small stars appeared before Hades’ eyes. He knew all too well what was happening, and almost instantly he had sat up to look at Ademus’ expression. It was one of delight. Ademus’ hands were cupped together, and a small critter appeared there; a large shoe looking beak, Hades noted, and grey feathers on a winged body. It was no bigger than Ademus’ hands, but Hades knew it was not originally that small.

“A bird?” Hades commented instantly. He had seen these winged creatures before in the Words of Lahabrea, but this one was rather different. “Why?” Hades looked up to Ademus.

The bird rested gracefully in Ademus’ hands, allowing the other Amaurotine to stroke the creature behind his ‘ears’. It seemed to enjoy it, despite the lack of a soul.

Ademus peered towards his brother, tilting his head and offering a smile. “On my travels I came across the creature. It soared magnificently throughout the skies, and rested upon large talons before it fed on aquatic creatures. It did not make a noise, nor did it move much like other birds. It simply remained still, and watched as I studied it.” A hand went up to Ademus’s mouth, a chuckle escaping not long after. “It reminded me of yourself, in a bittersweet way.”

Hades furrowed his brows. Was Ademus insulting him? Or should he feel pride that he was thinking about him on his travels? Regardless, the other had offered Hades a gift, and he knew it would be far too rude to leave without accepting said gift.

“Do not worry, Hades,” Ademus started. “It is not an insult, I assure you. The opposite, rather.” The other offered a smile. With this, Ademus had offered the shoebill to Hades. “Look after it, esteemed Emet-Selch. It may bring you good fortune in the future.” 

Were the words ‘esteemed Emet-Selch’ mocking him? Hades was not sure, but the bird in his hand melted away all of his resentment at the comment. A gift… a creature that Ademus had found in the wider world. 

“Then I presume you are enjoying your duties as Azem?” Hades commented, his tone changing as he himself stroked the bird behind his ears.

“They are interesting to say the least.” 

Ademus offered a smile. Hades noticed that he seemed genuinely happy with this smile. He was glad. His brother had finally found a purpose in life.

\--

Emet-Selch lay peacefully on a bed in Fanow. After being manhandled by malformed creatures, he was happy to finally be alone and left to his own thoughts. Were they happy, or melancholy thoughts? He was never sure at this point in time, but he always remembers a scene from the days of eld. 

Today it was his twin brother Ademus offering him the concept of a Shoebill he had found on his travels as he is to do as the esteemed Azem. What were his initial thoughts again? He could not remember. Was he happy, or was he shocked? 

_Perhaps when I bring my people back I will finally know what I felt._ Emet-selch thought to himself. His memory was not bad, he confessed, but he could never recall certain emotions from the different scenes he remembered in his time alone. It had been too long, he confessed, that some things may have been lost to the ages. But he would never forget their faces or voices; he would remember them for as long as he could.

“I thought you would be resting in your little void realm.” A husky voice spoke up, uninterested by the Ascians presence apparently.

Emet-Selch opened one eye to look at the malformed beast near to him. At first he focused on the soul of the creature, recognising a similar hue from times long gone, but he knew full well that Ademus was no longer there, or alive for that matter.

“Sometimes I enjoy resting in the realm of the living, despite how much your bodies irk me so.” Emet-Selch responded, sitting up and staring at the Warrior of Darkness.

It was interesting, Emet-Selch noted, how colours work in this life. Ademus strangely enough had long, fluffy pink hair underneath his robes. Yet the Warrior of Darkness standing before him was not much different in that respect; it was shorter, for sure, but it was still the same hue of pink that Emet-Selch recognised from the ages of eld. But it was not him.

“If your bodies irk us so, why do you continue to follow us like you are?” The Warrior of Darkness asked, with detest in his voice. 

Emet-Selch could not blame him for his hatred of himself, after-all, the Ascians have done nothing but hinder and hurt the Warrior of Darkness in his timeline. Though they got what they deserved eventually, both Lahabrea and Nabriales, for messing with him so.

“You are… how do I put this.” Emet-Selch taps his chin, thinking for a moment. Could he truly say he was interesting to him? No, not entirely. It would give away his motives.

“I am simply here to watch.” Emet-Selch shrugged his shoulders. “As I had told you several times, I am here to watch and nothing more.” 

The Warrior of Darkness squinted towards Emet-Selch. Was he suspecting something from him? Emet-Selch usually hid his motives well, that he could boast about, but perhaps the Warrior of Darkness could sense something off about him. 

No, no matter. He is not Ademus. It did not matter. He would not know Emet-Selch as well as Ademus did.

“In any case, Mister Warrior of Darkness, what did you say your name was again?” Emet-Selch at this point was finally standing up from the resting place where the Warrior of Darkness had found him.

“I am shocked you do not know.” The Warrior of Darkness started. “After-all, did you not boast that I was the ‘infamous Ascian killer’?” His voice was one of distrust.

“Yes, yes. That you are. But regardless I sometimes forget miniscule details such as the name that you call yourself.”

There was a brief period of silence, before the Warrior of Darkness spoke. It was a sour way to say his name, Emet-Selch noticed. Did he have disdain for his own name, or was it still towards the Ascian?

“Iszy.” 

_How peculiar._ Emet-Selch thought to himself. _A ridiculous name for a ridiculous body._

“We are leaving soon, Emet-Selch. I thought you would like to know.” Iszy broke the silence as Emet-Selch pondered the name. “Despite none of us being happy you are simply watching us, we thought it would be common courtesy to let you know that we are returning to the Crystarium.”

Emet-Selch looked towards Iszy, a curious expression etched upon his face. A simple gesture came from his hands, gesturing for the Warrior of Darkness to move onwards.

“Then, lead the way, _Iszy._ ” Emet-Selch spoke with a smug tone to his voice, emphasising on the Warrior of Darkness’ name.

\--

_Gone is the brilliant radiance of life, replaced by the sickly glow of malformed creatures. Is this to be how it ends? For we who loved the star with all our being?... No. I will not suffer it to be so._

The clawed gauntlet surrounded the pink crystal, and not long after it gripped tightly around it. Why did he recognise those words? That voice? What was this crystal, and why did it feel oh so familiar? He had never seen anything like this before; it had to be from Amaurot times.

“We meet again, my new old friend.” A soothing voice speaking an unknown language approached. Iszy recognised him. He recognised this voice; he recognised the language, though he could not speak it, he understood it fluently.

“Hythlodaeus.” Iszy responded almost instantly, his voice breathless. The last that Iszy spoke to this partciular Amaurotine shade, he had explained what had happened to Amaurot after the summoning of Zodiark; of the countless sacrifices that they had to do to bring the world back to its former glory after the final days. What did he want to speak about now? 

If the Amaurotine shade had a face, Iszy could swear it would be smiling. Was he perhaps, happy?, that Iszy had recognised him? Perhaps Iszy himself was a bit grateful to seeing Hythlodaeus as well.

A small gesture from the Amaurotine towards the stone in his hand. “I see you have been collecting stars.”

Iszy tilted his head, staring at Hythlodaeus with a furrow on his brow. The Warrior of Darkness was not used to being towered over by other creatures, but for some particular reason, he felt calmed by Hythlodaeus’ presence, regardless of his height in comparison.

“I speak of those crystals.” Hythlodaeus explains. “They have constellations etched upon them, yes?” A small pause came from the Amaurotine, as though waiting for Iszy to register his words. “High in the heavens, those stars shine their guiding light down upon the lives below. Fitting symbols for the Convocation of Fourteen, would you not agree?”

At those final words, Iszy blinked, opening his hand to show Hythlodaeus the crystal. It no longer spoke, but the hue on the crystal was the same as before. A small amount of aether was stored there.

Hythlodaeus leaned closer to notice what job stone Iszy had kept close to himself, and could not help but laugh at the thought.

“It is as though that job stone seems to be dear to you, my friend.” Hythlodaeus spoke softly, gesturing to the constellation as he approached. Iszy did not move a muscle, but he still remained calm as the giant approached him. “Rather fitting, considering.” Hythlodaeus mused out loud, placing a hand on his chin in thought.

The Warrior of Darkness peered up again at the Amaurotine, his brows still furrowed in confusion as he stared intently. “You are insinuating that I kept this one close to me for a reason…” Iszy spoke softly.

“Why, yes. I am.” Hythlodaeus hummed. “It was the last crystal, I must confess, but I did not expect you to take a liking to it.” Iszy’s reaction to the final crystal seemed to interest Hythlodaeus intensely.

Iszy peered down slowly at the crystal, taking a note of the colour and the constellation. He had never seen it before, but something in his gut told him it was familiar; the constellation and the stone both.

“It is the seat of Emet-Selch’s stone.” Hythlodaeus mused gently. “It is interesting due to your nature in a previous life…” Hythlodaeus trailed off, without mentioning anything more.

Iszy blinked. “‘Nature in a previous life?’” He furrows his brows, approaching Hythlodaeus without much choice in the matter. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Ah, but I believe I had said too much.” Hythlodaeus wafted a hand dismissively. “You will find out eventually, but not from me today, my old new friend.” 

Iszy knew the Amaurotine was smiling, but he could not help but feel agitated at it. He wanted to know more. What was he to Emet-Selch? He already knew his soul was sundered, but he was a friend to Hythlodaeus in Amaurot times. Was Emet-Selch his friend too? Were they close?

“I do have a message for you, however.” Hythlodaeus continued, seemingly oblivious to the Warrior of Darkness’ agitation. With those final words, Hythlodaeus brought his finger to his chin, and pointed it forwards. Not long after, another crystal with similar shape to the previous ones appeared before Iszy.

“Or rather, a gift I suppose.” Hythlodaeus recollected his thoughts. “Nevertheless,” He continued. “I recall speaking to you before your final stand with Emet-Selch, about a Fourteenth member of the Convocation.” 

Iszy does recall. He recalled the entire conversation that eventful day. How Hythlodaeus had mentioned that he and Ardbert shared the same soul; that they were together in Amaurot times; how Zodiark and Hydaelyn had come to be. And the circumstances of his creation.

“The Fourteenth member had defected not long before the summoning of Zodiark,” Hythlodaeus explained. “And defectors are usually shunned upon in the Convocation. As a result, their stone was destroyed. Or so they believed, if not for a certain someone keeping it safe.” 

Iszy blinked at Hythlodaeus’, and tensed his hand around the constellation stone in his hand. 

Emet-Selch, to Iszy, was an incredible thorn in his side when he was around; he was an Ascian, Iszy noted, but he was different from the others he had dealt with before. He did not outright attack him, nor did he ignore the many questions Iszy had in regards to Ascians and their side of the story. 

It was not until Iszy had seen Emet-Selch’s recreation of Amaurot that the Warrior of Darkness had finally begun to understand what the Ascians were going through; what the paragons were going through, for that manner. That all the pain and torment they were causing; every single rejoining, was simply to bring back their loved ones. That perhaps they were simply stuck in the past of their loved ones, and not looking forwards to the future. Iszy had noticed he began to grow softer towards the memory of Emet-Selch, and perhaps it was for the better to finally understand their torment.

_Remember us._

_Remember that we once lived._

Iszy’s grip around the constellation stone gripped even tighter. He could not explain why, but something inside him wished to cry; for tears to be shed for Emet-Selch. He could never, not for an Ascian, but his soul on the other hand…

“Keep them.” Hythlodaeus broke Iszy out of his daydream. The final crystal had made its way next to Emet-Selch’s crystal, tucking close to one another. “I’m sure Emet-Selch wouldn’t mind.”

Iszy peered up to the Amaurotine, then back to his hand. Unclenching his fist, he noticed the crystals close together. 

Not long after, Hythlodaeus began to ask about Iszy’s current feud. Iszy had mentioned that he had been chasing Elidibus around the district, as he conjured illusions of past friends and foes to stir Iszy from his past. It hurt Iszy slightly, but he knew he could not falter; the faces of those he lost only pushed him to continue forwards for their sake.

“I cannot say I can pick a side, as I am simply a distant memory.” Hythlodaeus hummed gently. “But, truly… If I had to pick a side. I would prefer that you would win, my friend.” The Amaurotine did not hesitate to make his request clear.

“After-all…” The Amaurotine started once more. “If you do not, how will you keep your promise to Emet-Selch?

The promise to remember?”


End file.
